Melt Like This
by katierosefun
Summary: Maybe it was just the giddiness they were still both feeling, maybe it was just the spirit that hung over the TARDIS. Whatever it was, Clara Oswald didn't expect a surprise kiss from the Doctor. That is, not that she was complaining. [Post-Last Christmas. Whouffaldi.]


Hello, everyone! I'm back with another Whouffaldi fic - and this is for myopicfriend, who is both on and tumblr, so go check her out/follow her on Tumblr! She was one of the five winners of a recent fanfic giveaway I did - thanks again for joining and enjoy!

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 _Melt Like This_

Clara Oswald sprinted into the TARDIS, never feeling more at home with the ship. It, in return, seemed to brighten when Clara practically danced inside, which made the woman beam down at the console with pride. They had a come long way, the TARDIS and Clara. And speaking of coming a long way…Clara lifted a small hand against her lips, a smile curling against the flesh of the back of her hand. She could still feel the pressure of her lips against the Doctor's weathered – yet unexpectedly and surprisingly soft – cheek. Clara hadn't known what she was thinking when she had jumped forward – maybe that she was just glad, maybe that she was still giddy about how the Doctor and she were _together. Finally._

But what would the Doctor think? That Clara was just teasing? Because frankly, that was almost – no, it _was_ – the exact opposite of what Clara had been intending.

Clara whirled around to hear the door click to a close behind her. The Doctor was standing in the doorway, hands clasped behind him and a small, almost shy smile on his face now. When Clara and he had sprinted out of the house, the Doctor had been beaming, his smile wider and happier and just _much more_ than Clara had ever seen it. It was almost painful – a painful kind of _much more_ , which had made Clara's heart beat out of control.

"A second chance," Clara managed to say, trying to keep herself from smiling too widely, but she couldn't help it. A laugh made its way up her throat, filling up the TARDIS. "Oh, Doctor." She hopped forward, and though Clara was fully aware that she was in nothing but her nightgown and robe, it didn't stop her from practically leaping towards the Doctor. She took his hands, saying happily, "Were to next? Where? Anywhere – no, any _when_ – is just waiting for us."

The Doctor didn't even seem fazed by Clara's burst of energy. If anything, he seemed to want to go along with it. The two ran around the console, hands firmly clasped together and Clara's heart beating quickly in her chest. She had never felt quite this content, this elated, not since the last time she had been on a happy adventure with the Doctor – which seemed to be an incredibly long time ago.

"You choose," the Doctor said, his voice slightly breathless when the two finally came to a stop. Clara, leaning against the console, asked, "Seriously?"

"Anywhere – anywhen – I promised that to you," the Doctor replied, his voice growing softer and softer with each word. Clara couldn't help herself – she held onto them, feeling the same amount of hypnotization she had felt when she had first realized how much she cared for the Doctor. "An entire lifetime of traveling an entire lifetime of doing nothing but learning and seeing and experiencing new things – you ought to have the first choice."

Clara let out a laugh, spinning around again on her heels. "Okay, then," she said, reaching her hands for the console. She closed her eyes, searching her mind for something – for a place she could think of – and yet, though she was so extremely happy and giddy, the woman couldn't pick out a thought from the sea of emotions she was feeling all at once. A happy sigh coming out of Clara, she stepped away from the console and turned to the Doctor.

"What is it?" he asked, taking a step towards her. "Have you forgotten?"

"No – no, it's not that," Clara replied hurriedly. She ran a hand through her soft hair, trying to find the right words. "It's just…" she paused, her doe-like, brown eyes meeting the Doctor's pale, grey-blue ones. There had been once upon a time she had thought those eyes looked cold and unforgiving, careful and brash at the same time – now, Clara almost couldn't get enough of them. And that's what struck her odd – she may have been in love. She may have loved the Doctor before this one – she may have loved Danny Pink – but she had never described someone as _not ever having enough._ Whether it was because Clara had thought those words seemed too sappy to become sincere or simply too unrealistic, the woman didn't know – only that those words were finally beginning to have some meaning in her life.

"I want to go wherever you want to go," Clara finished at last. She turned back to the console, her hands gripping over the levers. "Anywhere, anywhen. As long as it's just us, I don't even mind." She paused. "Actually, no – you can't take us anywhere that's _too_ dangerous, because I don't think I'd be too awfully pleased by that." She cast a look at him. "To be honest, I think we've both had enough of that for tonight, too, no matter how technical it was."

"Couldn't agree more," the Doctor replied simply. He placed his hands on the console, and after some time, he mused, "And I? I don't know – to be honest – where I'd like to be right now, Clara. Just that I will be fine with whatever you choose."

"And I suppose you hear pretty orchestral music in your head when you say things like that?" Clara asked lightly. The Doctor shrugged his shoulders. "I never said I was good at displaying these ideas, Clara," he replied, though his tone and expression were so sheepish that Clara couldn't help but to feel her heart swell up even further in her affection for him.

"That's just fine," Clara replied, feeling a smile tug at the sides of her mouth. "Because lucky for you, I'm plenty good." She turned back around, her fingers dancing around the levers of the console. "Now, let's see…where to go – when to go…"

Clara briefly imagined a beach – a nice, comfy beach with lots of white sand that looked like finely-spun sugar – frothy, white and blue waters lapping p against the surface and a sky so blue that one wouldn't be sure if they were looking at the sky or the sea. Palm trees with leaves that swung gently every time a warm breeze passed by. Exotic birds that never stole the food of visitors, but sitting prettily up in the branches of trees and uttering gentle, crooning sounds. Clara could picture it if she tried hard enough…

And then, before Clara could even try to put that feeling into the TARDIS console, she felt something press against the side of her neck. It was soft – and it sent shivers up Clara's spine almost instantly. But they weren't bad shivers – they weren't the type of shivers that sent children crawling underneath their blankets or the types of shivers that one felt on a cold winter's day – it was, again, the exact opposite.

These shivers were _electric_ – and instead of making Clara feel cold, it made her skin bloom with heat. She closed her eyes, realizing in the next moment that it was in fact the Doctor, pressing his lips ever-so-gently against the curve of her neck. Clara let her head fall back, and instantly felt the Doctor's jacketed shoulder. She sucked in a surprised, pleased breath as the Doctor's kiss lingered against her skin. She could feel him stop – and then, he was pulling away.

"I'm sorry," he said immediately when Clara turned to look at him. "I didn't mean for that to happen –"

Clara made a small sound from the back of her throat. ( _God_ , where did _that_ even _come_ from?) She managed to shake her head, replying, "Unplanned or not, Doctor…" Her voice drifted dangerously as she walked towards him. She leaned forward, letting her head fall against his shoulder. She propped herself up only a little so she could plant her own gentle kiss against his neck. "It was _good_ ," she breathed out.

With that, the woman stepped back and innocently looked over at the console. She waited – one second, two seconds, three seconds – before she felt the delicious, warm, electrifying sensation of the Doctor's lips glide up and down the curve of her neck. Clara closed her eyes again. _Sod_ the beach – she was here in this moment _right now._ She didn't need any other plans.

Clara turned around, catching the Doctor by surprise and meeting his lips with hers. She was underneath him – shorter than him, so she had to stand a bit on the tips of her toes to really capture the kiss. _Capture the kiss_ , Clara thought giddily to herself. _A perfectly good explanation and description._

The Doctor's hands were set against the console behind Clara now, his head tilting down to meet Clara's lips again. Clara was tugging at his bottom lip lightly now, just enough so it wouldn't hurt him – she had personally loathed it when her previous partners would do that with her lip, especially if they _bit_ her – but Clara was sure to be gentle. The Doctor lifted one hand to slide against the back of Clara's head. He made a small sound against Clara's lips, and the two were breaking for air, their foreheads touching and letting their breaths mingle together which would been uncomfortable – but somehow wasn't.

Clara sighed happily as the Doctor rested his head against her shoulder. She felt him plant his lips a little harder against her neck again – and the woman could only smile in complete and utter content.

In this moment, right here, was exactly where she belonged.

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 **A/N -** It's been a pretty long time since I've last written Whouffaldi, so I'm sorry if it wasn't exactly the best - but still, I hope it was passable. (Who else is freaking out for season nine? Ugh, can the fall come sooner?!)

Reviews are great! Constructive criticism is alright, but flames are not!


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